


A Night Alone with Sherlock Holmes

by floatinginemptyspace



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, Sex, Smut, shamless smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-19
Updated: 2014-01-19
Packaged: 2018-01-09 07:37:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1143289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floatinginemptyspace/pseuds/floatinginemptyspace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John is out of the apartment tonight and isn't likely to return. You see an opportunity to pounce on the infamous Sherlock Holmes and your actions lead to a night of passion. Essentially, this is just shameless smut. Warning for (somewhat) detailed sex!</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Night Alone with Sherlock Holmes

**Author's Note:**

> I normally don't write smutty fictions, so I sincerely hope I performed adequately and you enjoyed it! This little piece is meant to take place before John and Mary get married. Feel free to leave any comments and give me a heads up if I made any grammar/spelling mistakes. If you wish to use this piece in anything (which I doubt), feel free! As long as I am credited, I do not mind one bit! Thank you for your time!

While his back his is turned away from you, you reach over and adjust your shirt so your lacy, fuchsia bra is peeking through the confines of your shamefully tight shirt. Now that John is often preoccupied with Mary, you have Sherlock all to yourself. Frankly, you wouldn’t know how to describe your relationship with Sherlock. Nothing was ever officially established; you two just…happened. You don’t know how or why it happened, but it did and you always understood all the odd, little facets of his personality. But now that John is finally out of the apartment and isn’t likely to return tonight, you see an opening. You decide that you are going to seduce the infamous Sherlock Holmes and have your way with him. 

He turns around and his gaze drifts to your chest. Already knowing what game you want to play, he sits down with a light growl. 

“Whatever you’re thinking ______________, it isn’t going to happen.” 

You didn’t let his words get to you. Sherlock tends to pull this card on you quite often but tonight is different. Tonight you will finally be able to explore every curve, every muscle of his body and you will both enjoy it no matter what. 

“Why, what in the world are you talking about?” you playfully question as your saunter off towards him, adding an evocative sway to your hips, holding your head high, and dangerously narrowing your eyes, adding heat and lust to your gaze.

“Do not play coy with me, ____________.”

You simply let out a giggle and continue your advances. Stopping in front of him, you reach over and dim the lights. You are a crepuscular creature after all; you do enjoy hunting your prey down in the twilight. Your long, lithe fingers dance over the hem of your shirt and make their way to the straps of the flimsy fabric, slowly, teasingly pulling them off your shoulders. You only pull your shirt down far enough to completely expose your sultry bra, but you dare not go further; at least, not yet. Your hands proceed to glide down your curvaceous torso, hooking your thumbs into the hem of your loose pants. You pull those off entirely, revealing Sherlock’s favorite, pink lingerie. That frilly fabric was a guilty pleasure of his, and you fully know the effect it has on him. 

He tries to shoot you a disapproving look, but the underwear is working its magic and his resolve was clearly wavering because of how desultory his “menacing” look was. You take that as even more encouragement and settle yourself into his lap, placing light pressure onto his bottom half as you wrap your arms around his neck, ensnaring your fingers into his lustrous, ebony curls. If there was anything you knew about Sherlock it was that he secretly enjoyed the teasing antics behind your games. He practically lives off of it, like an addict craving his daily fix. 

You nudge his head slightly to the left and bury your face into his neck. You had some experience in the field of seduction and the main thing you learned over the years is that the neck is always an incredibly vulnerable area. Your lips skim down his creamy neck and settle onto his sharp collarbones. You give them a lick and lightly blow hot air onto them; you have a bit of a fetish for collarbones, so you absolutely had to toy with them. You hover your lips over his pulse, relishing the drum-like beat pumping through his veins. Placing feathery kisses on his neck, you slowly ascend it and then focus your attention to the area underneath his jawline, right next to his ear. He tenses ever so slightly and you shiver with delight, pleased that you located a soft spot of his, so you continue to blow how air. You make your way to his ear, give it a lick, and bite down. This elicits tremor from him.

“You know what I want, Sherlock,” you whisper hotly into his ear, enraptured by how powerful you feel in the moment; like the epitome of sex appeal and allure.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you are referring to. Would you care to elaborate?” His baritone voice resonates through the apartment and your heart becomes giddy with exuberance. You have him right where you want him and he knows it.

“Why gladly, Mr. Holmes,” you tease back and he simply lets out a low, sexy groan, causing waves of sexual tension to run down your spine and lead straight to your core. Dear god, did you love that voice of his. It was so silky and smooth and whenever he was in a state like this, it became even deeper, more fluid. It was liquid warmth slithering into your ears and your head lit up with heat, relishing the velvet tones escaping from his powerful throat. Your gaze drifts to his eyes and they have now darkened a few shades, a smoldering, hot, sapphire blue encompassing his normally icy eyes. The contrast makes you shiver with pleasure. Your nails scratch at the base of his neck and make their down to his collarbones, repeatedly gliding up and down. Your lips ghost over his cheekbones and make their way to his lovely, absolutely sublime lips, with the sharp cupid’s bow that always throws you on edge. You teasingly kiss him at first, but he then entangles his hands in your hair and pulls with enough force to send a sinful mix of pain and pleasure rippling through you.

You deepen the kiss and slide your hands back into his hair, returning the favor and ever so slightly pulling on his perfect curls. You grind your hips against his, feeling a swell of flesh beneath you that is slowly getting larger and larger. Your kisses now become frantic, more alert. Your hands shoot to his suit and despite your best efforts to undo the buttons, your maladroit hands keep fumbling. Sherlock feels you struggle and unbuttons his jacket with precise, calculated moves. 

Once that is off, you start to slide off his shirt and he returns the favor for you, leaving you in nothing but your undergarments. Now that his chest is exposed and bared to you, you forcefully push him down onto the couch and run your hands down the smooth, yet firm planes of his chest. Sitting back, your eyes analyze every contour of his body, slowly forming a map of his body in your mind. You rest your ear against his chest and listen to his heartbeat; it was faster than usual. Whilst listening to the pounding muscle in his chest, you press your hand against his stomach, feeling every bump, every hair on him. You drag a finger down the side of his body and your eyes hone in on every visible pore, every minute detail that riddled his pale skin. 

Sitting back up again, you reach for his hand and place it against your face, enjoying the feeling of his large hand against your cheek. You then drag your nose down his forearm, kiss the veins, and turn to gaze at his face. He looks different now; anticipation and something else is clouding his face. He looks vulnerable and you feel your heart stop for a split second. Sherlock has a knack for maintaining a cool, collected poker face and yet here he is, baring his heart to you and displaying a facet of his personality that you never knew existed. You feel your eyes soften and a new found adoration overwhelms you follow the impulse to cup his face and give him a tender kiss. Heated passion floods your senses again and you feather kisses down his torso and lick the happy trail leading to his pants. You kiss the surrounding area and hook your thumbs into the belt loops. Just as you are about to tug on the fabric, Sherlock sits up and holds you. 

“No, ________________. Not here,” he whispers, his breath falling quickly.   
His lips attack yours momentarily and he proceeds to stand up. You frown at the missing contact but soon get what you want when he lifts you up and stumbles into the bedroom. You both land onto the bed with a light thud and you assail his torso yet again. This time you bite down onto the hem of his pants and pull them off with feral growl bubbling in your throat. Sherlock would never say it aloud, but your fierceness only excites him even further. You stick your finger into the elastic band of his boxers, pull on it, and let it go, letting a loud, audible smack resonate in the room. You know how Sherlock enjoys a mix of pain and pleasure so you do it again, releasing yet another shudder from his divine mouth. 

Tired of the games, you tug the garment off and wrap your small hands around the base of him. You pump your hands a few times, causing Sherlock’s member to rise in all of its glory. Your vision is now hazed with lust and your mouth slips around him. You give him a lengthy lick and focus your attention to the underside of his member. He shudders as your hands drift a little farther down south and cup him. You then wrap your mouth entirely around him, forcing yourself to take in as much as you can of his dark musk that was lightly laced with the taste of cigarettes. His toxic taste sent your mind buzzing and you felt a bit like an addict being rewarded with cornucopia of opiates. His hands aid you but before you know it, he pulls you off of him. While you’re in a stunned stupor, Sherlock flips you over and unclasps your bra, tossing it to the corner of the room. 

Now it is his turn to admire your body and he traces the swell of your breasts with a light finger. His hands mold to the curve of your waist and they lightly massage you, rubbing spots of your body that you never knew could feel so sensational. He then moves his mouth to your breasts and gives each one a light kiss before squeezing them with enough pressure to make you moan. A low hum echoes out of his chest and his hand trails down your torso and right to your calf. He lifts one leg and kisses your calf and the underside of your knee, forcing a giggle to erupt out of your mouth. Flushed with anticipation you watch him kiss his way to your inner thigh. His expert hands massage your inner thighs and he removes the final article of clothing off of your body. His fingers trace the area around your molten core, but he never makes direct contact with it. He inhales your musky scent and run his nose up and down the smooth ripples of flesh concealing your womanhood with slow, languid movements.

You slightly shift your hips, giving him the cue that you’re becoming restless with anticipation. He slowly spreads your legs a bit more, then spreads your lips, and his inexorable tongue suddenly begins working wonders, relentlessly licking away at you. You grip his hair and grind against him, panting heavily. He slips two fingers inside you and curls his fingers in a “come hither” motion. Whilst maintaining this motion, he slowly pumps in and out and slips in another finger. He buries his fingers as far as they can go with quite a bit of force, but the mix of pleasure and the feeling of being stretched out is simply too delicious. The action drives you off the edge and knowing that you’re only a few more licks away from climax, you try to move your hips along with him. You breathing is now shallow, your body bracing for impact. Right before you are met with euphoria, he pulls away and prevents your release. 

“What? Not fair,” you whine, out of breath.

“Oh shut up,” he growls back and his feral behavior unleashes more passion within you. 

He reaches over to his cupboard, skillfully unwraps the protection, and places it on his member. He then slams into you and the unexpected action elicits a deep moan from you as well as a groan from him. He pounds into you, grinding whenever he makes contact with your clitoris and it sends you into a frenzy. Your rotate your hips along with him and the actions send both of you to a land of blissful ecstasy and elation. The pleasure quickly builds within you and you can feel your climax nearing. His skilled fingers work at your clitoris and one hand is wrapped around your waist, giving him more leverage. He then proceeds to gyrate and moves at an even quicker pace, the sound of wet, slapping skin and groans filling the sex scented air. Your senses soon become overloaded and you cry out, basking in the warmth of your climax and feeling your lower muscles clamp tightly around his member. Sherlock relishes the extra tightness, pulls in and out a few more times, and he too comes to his own climax, collapsing next to you. He slides the condom off and holds you in his slick, sweat coated arms. Both of your breathing slowly becomes more regulated and you can hear his heart slow down. You roll over onto your back and let out a deep breath, your body wracked with lassitude. 

With a cheeky grin you murmur, “I think I won this round.”

“The game is on, ______________. The game is always on…”


End file.
